


Rip Tides

by lostprinceloki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostprinceloki/pseuds/lostprinceloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean realizes he's kinda been in love with this angel of his for a while now when his giant brother stomps over and destroys his sand castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rip Tides

**Author's Note:**

> Something short I've recently written as a request, prompt being: "Dean takes Castiel to see the ocean." I just joined ao3, so I'm a bit nervous. I hope anyone enjoys this, thanks!!

He awakes in a whirlwind of smells; guilt hangs over him like all the old tales spun through words, dipped in sad and salted with wisdom, that he hears as he travels from city to city. Sam sees it, maybe more than he ever would, how devoid Castiel has become. Castiel isn’t meant to be a machine, and Sam sometimes has to remind him how close Castiel is to human, more than any of them could ever hope to be. 

They’re in Santa Fe, where hearts unfold like the daily releases of new films; where the sun is overwhelmingly bleary, blindingly alone in it’s sky. Sam is gone, his body once next to his own on the mattress they had to share the night before-

“I bet God’s cackling upstairs. We’re practically a married couple now, Sammy.”

“Don’t confuse me with your angel, Dean!”

-and Dean has know idea where Castiel is. It only takes a second before he realizes he smells spices and smoke, and scrambles, hardly dressed, to the kitchen of this broken cottage. 

The sun breaks, picking apart the golden bits of air that are usually unseen, and filtering to where Castiel sits on the floor, sans trench coat, picking up broken glass. 

“The fuck- Cas, this is why you gotta leave all the household chores to Sam. No- dont touch the glass, you’ll cut yourself. Oh hell, you can lead an army around but can’t make breakfast, okay.”

Dean muttered half these things while picking Castiel up, who held a dumbfounded look which turned into a slight grimace. 

“I am not a child nor a project, Dean.”

“Feisty today, aren’t ya.” Dean picks up the glass and tosses it out, before fanning the remaining smoke towards the open windows. Castiel sighs, and Dean’s heart jumps at the sound- it’s so quick, but he catches it. 

“Something’s bothering you. Tell me.” Dean sits down at the wooden table, a dry gust of wind circling around the two in their own little universe overlooking this foreign city, and Dean can’t stop the palpitations as they run through his bloodstream and skin.

“This isn’t like you, Dean.”

“Consider yourself lucky. Blame it on the wine they have here, I don’t care.” Dean quirks a grin and Castiel’s eyes widen, before he shifts and looks down, uncomfortable in his skin. Dean dips his face lower and catches another treasure- Castiel’s lip quivers. He doesn’t notice how close he moved until Castiel breaths onto him, small like bells and cold, so cold in this warm city. 

“What else do I do, except come and assist you? Assist in Heaven, on Earth; what is it that you guys call it?”

“You need a vacation, is what you’re saying.”

Dean’s conscious thunders in his head, because he knows this is something he let slip from his hands, and he doesn’t want to have to pick up pieces of Castiel and throw them away. His misconstrued heroism isn’t his preferred choice of living, and it may be infantile, but it’s the only way he knows- and he has to fix this. 

—

Dean had danced all around it, this entire time; he was sure, now. It had been disconnecting dots, or bypassing trains, time-crossed people lost through plaintive space. This was it, him and Castiel- and it kinda sucked to figure it all out when your giant brother stomps over and fucks up your sand castle. 

“Dude, whatever rights you had as a kid have ran out. You aren’t allowed to fuck up a man’s sand castle.”

“It’s sad that you feel so strongly about the rights a grown man has to a pile of misshaped sand.” Sam laughs, and Dean bites back every ounce of love he feels for that sound.

“Someone sounds bitter.” Castiel pops his head from the water, and Dean rushes over. Sam gives him a smug look, and Dean just ignores it as he walks over.

“Sup?” 

“I believe you need to join me- this, this sensation. I can’t understand why you all just don’t live in the ocean.” Castiel is beaming in the way that only his angel would, with a sparkle in his eye and a taut, almost-smile. It’s unreadable to most, but Dean just knows this is the best way he can show it.

“We don’t need any more freaky subspecies running around; half-human, half-water nymph or somethin’. We can do with more bikinis and water, though.”

Dean feels his tongue dry and his words lack meaning as Castiel outstretches his fingers, long and pale, and without trepidation he presses his palm to Castiel’s, wraps his fingers around and lets Castiel draw him in. Castiel’s smile reminds him to let go of his breath.


End file.
